


All the Right Moves

by roxashighwind



Series: We Dance to a Different Disco, Honey [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, Idk yet to be honest, M/M, because Scott's there for music, dancer!au, except Scott, most of the pack is now in school for dance related things, or something
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-16
Updated: 2013-04-16
Packaged: 2017-12-08 16:03:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/763295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roxashighwind/pseuds/roxashighwind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles and the girls are in a dance class together. Why their ballet class got shoved into a room with six sturdy poles from floor to ceiling is anyone's guess. Not only has someone moved their class to a new room, but their instructor is late.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All the Right Moves

**Author's Note:**

> Written last minute for the [Teen Wolf Spring Fling](http://teenwolfspringfling.tumblr.com/). Specifically prompt Day 5 which is a lovely image seen [here](http://media.tumblr.com/348af7f4a32b201eef91620bef98cc6a/tumblr_inline_mjms5tpt6N1qi85rl.jpg). 
> 
> And when I say last minute I really mean it - I finished this ten minutes ago so it's unbeta'd, but hopefully there aren't many mistakes. 
> 
> Additionally, the first move that Stiles does is [this](http://poledancedictionary.com/moves/272/dragon/) (link is to a video, dancer is fully clothed).
> 
> Additionally again: there is mention of sex workers, strippers and pole dancers in this fic. Some negative things are said by an OC about sex workers, strippers, and pole dancers, and another OC confronts the first about it.

It's mild chaos in the dance studio.

The instructor is late and the dancers are getting antsy, all talking over each other and eyeing the half-dozen silver poles spaced along the room in front of the mirrors like they might jump out and bite them. Nearly everyone in the room is suddenly questioning whether they're in the right place - the sign on the door of their normal studio directing them to this one. Some worry that it's a joke from one of the other classes, and one or two are absolutely certain as the clock ticks toward the instructor being five minutes late.

Of the thirteen dancers milling about and talking, one stands apart from the rest. He's near one of the poles, looking at it with his lower lip caught between his teeth. He keeps his eyes fixed on the pole as he adjusts the way his wide legged sweats rest along his hips before finally reaching out a hand to lightly grasp the pole.

The dancer shifts his weight, stepping closer to the pole. He breathes slowly, tip of his tongue slipping out of his mouth as his focus narrows on the pole under his fingers. The dancer shifts his hand up a little for better purchase before adding his other hand to the bar, just under the first. Keeping his grip firm, fully concentrated on what he was doing, he steps to the side enough to get his weight moving before tightening his abs to bring his legs up.

He does a partial split in the air, upper body on one side of the pole and legs the other. It takes him a second to spin himself around enough to hook his left leg around the pole above the rest of his body, left hand sliding to hold the bar near his hip and right sliding down toward the floor for show more than anything. His right leg shifts out into the air, and for several long moments he feels practically weightless with the world upside down.

He lets himself down as easy as you please, right hand coming above his left and leg coming away from the pole, abs tight as he lets himself drift down until his feet touch the ground. Letting go of the pole, he punches the air with a wide grin. His grin doesn't falter even feeling the eyes of most people in the room on him, though he wipes sweaty palms along his thighs.

"Stilinski! What the hell?" A curvy blond rushes toward him and lightly punches his arm. "I didn't know you knew moves like that."

"Heh... It was just one move, Erica." He runs a hand along the back of his neck, pride and embarrassment fighting for dominant emotion and causing his cheeks to tinge pink.

"Still! You never told us you knew anything about pole dancing." Erica stands close, soft curls already falling from her messy bun.

"I took a class freshman year." He shrugs and shifts from foot to foot. "It's not a big deal."

A brunette moves close, bumping her shoulder against his before Erica can say something else. "Stiles. That was badass. Can you teach me that if the instructor doesn't come in?"

Stiles laughs. "Maybe? I dunno, Al, I don't think Scott would be too happy with me teaching his fiance how to pole dance."

"Then teach Erica and she can teach me." Allison grins and loops an arm around one of his. She glances around the room. "I'm starting to think that we got sent to this room by mistake."

"Considering that we didn't actually sign up for a pole dancing class, I'm thinking you're right, Allison." The redhead who approaches them sounds bored, pointe shoes hanging from her shoulder at their tied-together ribbons. She stops near them with a hip cocked. "If the instructor isn't here in another five minutes we're all going to walk out." The other three dancers nod automatically in agreement with the redhead.

Erica looks across the room at the other dancers. "Take a picture, it'll last longer," she calls with a dangerous smile. Attentions quickly turn away from the group of four and her smile turns pleasant.  "Think our instructor is going to be annoyed with us tomorrow?"

"Not with you," a voice barks from the doorway. "But I am going to talk to the person who took over our space."

Stiles' mouth falls open as he takes in their instructor. He's seen the man around campus before, glimpses of him in the last year. "That's Derek Hale," he whispers to Allison, holding her closer by their linked arms.

"I know," she whispers back. "I had him as a TA in my modern class last semester."

"Oh my god. Modern and pointe? Fuck me."

"I heard he's teaching a capoeira class this semester, too," adds Erica as she fits herself against Stiles' other side.

Stiles groans loud enough to draw attention to himself again. Derek drops his bag on the floor, making a thud loud enough to draw the attention back to him. "If you've got something to say, don't."

Derek is in a wife beater and loose sweats, gathered at the calves to leave his feet bare. He eyes the pole nearest to him, then casts his gaze around the gathered dancers. "Have any of you worked with the pole before?"

"No," the room choruses, except for Stiles and a girl half hidden where she crouches at the outlet, charging her phone.

A girl with a distinct line denoting where she's put her foundation along her jaw speaks up snottily. "It's not like any of us are strippers or something." She has a hand on her hip, dark hair pulled back in a high ponytail.

Derek opens his mouth to say something, but before he can get a word out the girl charging her phone straightens up. She's small and lean, with short hair pinned ruthlessly out of her face. "Is there something wrong with being a stripper?" Her voice is just as small as the rest of her, soft enough that Stiles and the girls around him nearly have to strain to hear.

"Letting men ogle you like you're meat? Yeah, there's something wrong with it." She says it like it's the most obvious thing in the world. "Strippers are just one step removed from hookers."

Stiles bristles. "Hey!" He tries to say more but Lydia smacks a hand over his mouth to shut him up.

The small girl sets her phone down carefully and gets into the other girl's space; everyone else backs away quickly. She has to look up to see the other girl's face, but she doesn't care as she crowds into her space more and more. "Really? That's really what you think? Not all strippers pole dance, and not all pole dancers are strippers. Not all strippers even get nude, or even topless. There is artistry in both, and it's a fucking job. It's women and men working to put themselves through school, to put food on their table and shelter over their heads and take care of their children and you have no right to judge someone."

She takes a quick breath and starts talking again before the other girl can pull herself together. "Sex workers are what they are for their own reasons and you need to educate yourself before you run your mouth. You don't know other peoples' circumstances, you don't get to judge anyone for what they do with themselves. I'm a dancer and I am not going to let you shame me for a job I like more than I don't, and one that's both paying my tuition and letting me practice new routines for my classes."

Applause breaks out in the studio, twelve pairs of hands clapping. A few of the students even call out praises at how the small girl has taken down the other. After a moment Derek silences everyone.

"Be careful what you say, Morgan. It's okay to have opinions, but like Deni said, you don't know what the lives of others are like" Derek says. "We have about an hour left of this class and we're going to use what we're given. Deni, and you in the back," he gestures to Stiles. "Come up here."

Lydia uncovers his mouth slowly, and Erica and Allison push him forward. Stiles stumbles but manages to catch himself before he falls.  He sticks his tongue out at the girls and smiles at Deni when he gets close to her. She's almost a head shorter than him and it makes him smile wider as they shift to stand near Derek.

Derek nods at them and looks at the assembled students. "Pole work involves a lot of core strength. Depending on what moves you're doing, it can also involve a lot of upper body or leg strength as well." He looks over at Deni. "Show the class something basic, what you'd teach a beginner."

"Sure." Deni stretches for a moment before approaching the pole nearest to them. She places her right hand high on the bar and begins a slow circle around, hooks her right leg around the bar on the third step and uses her right arm to hold her nearly parallel to the floor for two sliding rotations until her hip touches the floor. She slides her right leg up and away from the pole and stands.

"Good." Derek looks at the other dancers. "If your grip is not sure, you can fall and get injured." Derek does a quick stretch before going at the pole like Deni had started. Instead of spinning around as she had, he gets his left hand on the bar as well and stretching himself out parallel to the floor, legs tight together. He holds himself there for long moments, muscles standing out on his arms and showing along his core. "My weight is supported more on my upper arm and through my core than anything else." He pulls himself out of the pose and stands.

Stiles looks at the pole, thinking hard. What could he do that would be flashy enough to catch Derek's attention - which Stiles has realized he wants very much - without seeming desperate for it? A dozen moves and tricks go through his mind until he settles for simple show of strength. He approaches the pole unasked, takes a deep breath, and reaches for the pole.

He can feel eyes on him as he pulls himself up the pole, getting a decent amount of distance between his ass and the floor. Stiles pushes away, legs spread in a v-shape around the pole. He swings his legs back and forth to gain momentum enough to invert himself, bringing his legs together and pointing his toes as he goes. Stiles holds himself upside down, parallel to the pole before slowly walking on air down until he's parallel to the floor. He swings his legs in a v-shape toward the pole only to fully invert himself once more.

It's not hard to put one hand over the other and turn himself, lazily spinning to hold himself one-elbowed with his shoulder against the pole. His head falls back and his free arm is out behind himself, chest out and the rest of his body held parallel but not touching the pole with his toes pointing at the floor. Stiles lets himself drift downward until his toes touch the floor and finally stands on his feet again. He'd lost himself in the motions, and opens his eyes slowly to see everyone watching him intently.

"Uh... So I did that." Stiles' cheeks heat and he does what he can to distract himself by rubbing sweaty hands against his thighs.

Derek looks at him for a moment, large brows a bit furrowed in thought. "That was a good display of something advanced," he finally offers. "Would anyone like to try what Deni did?"

"Try or he'll pick someone!" Allison calls from where she's still apart from the rest of the class with the two other girls. She smiles easily and gives a "well, that's what you'd do" shrug when Derek glares at her.

The remaining time in the class is slow and torturous for Stiles and Deni as they try to teach each of the eleven other dancers at least one basic pole dancing move. It's a wasted class for everyone - since it's supposed to be a ballet class focused on pointe work - but they make the most of it.

As everyone packs up to leave, Derek crowds into Stiles' space, not touching him but getting damn close. Erica and Allison shoot him questioning looks as they near the door, silently asking him if he needs help; two shakes of his head gets them moving again, and they drag Lydia with them.

"Um, hi. You're really close, man." Stiles takes a step back and almost trips over his bag.

He doesn't move away but he doesn't crowd closer, still not touching him. "That was an impressive display." Derek takes one of Stiles' hands and presses a slip of folded paper against it. He turns and is nearly out the door before he's calling out, "Don't make me regret giving you that."

Stiles unfolds the paper. It's Derek's number in tidy scrawl. He doesn't even try to hold back his whoop of joy, complete with accompanying happy dance. He fishes his phone from one of the outer pockets of his bag and quickly taps in Derek's number.

From: Stiles  
To: Bushybrows McHottie  
Your display was impressive too.

From: Bushybrows McHottie  
To: Stiles  
Don't make me regret giving you my number, Stiles.

From: Stiles  
To: Bushybrows McHottie  
I'll make it worth your while ;)

From: Bushybrows McHottie  
To: Stiles  
Come to coffee with me tonight.

Stiles lets out another whoop of joy, excited, and taps out a quick response when he can settle his flailing. It's just a coffee date, but it will get the girls and his best friend off his case about not having a life outside of dancing and other school work, and that is more than good enough for him.

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first of many things in this universe. I have a lot of feelings about things going on in this universe.


End file.
